Everlasting Desire

Shore’s was having its once-a-year sale, which meant they were even busier than usual, for which Megan was grateful. She didn’t have any time to think of anything—or anyone—else.



It was after eleven when Drexel swaggered into Shore’s. Clad in a fluorescent pink shirt, black velvet vest, and skintight black pants, he was a sight to behold. His face lit up brighter than his shirt when he saw Megan.



“Babe!” he exclaimed as he wrapped her in a bear hug. “I’m so glad to see you!”



“Thanks, Drexel. I missed you, too,” she said, and meant it. “Hey, I thought you were going on tour?”



“We cut it short.”



Extricating herself from his embrace, she asked, “Is something wrong?”



“Just my head. Ever since the fire, I’ve been having trouble performing on a stage unless it’s outside. My shrink says it’ll pass, in time. He says I should take a vacation, so that’s what I’m gonna do. So, I need some new threads, something hip but subdued, you know?”



“I’m sure we can find something that will work.”



Ninety minutes and nine thousand dollars later, Drexel pulled her into another exuberant hug. “Thanks, babe. Just seeing you makes me feel better.” He smiled at her, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So, babe, have you decided to marry me yet?”



“Drexel…”



“I know you think I’m too young and that I’m just kiddin’ around, and that I don’t really mean it, but if you say yes, I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.”



“You’re sweet, really, but I wouldn’t be good for you or anyone else right now.”



“What happened, Megan? Some guy hurt you?”



“In a way.” Lifting a hand, Megan caressed his cheek. “If I was going to marry anyone, it would be you.”



He laughed at that. “I’ll hold you to it,” he said, and kissed her on the cheek. “See you soon.”



Megan stared after him as he left the shop. Maybe she should marry Drexel. He wouldn’t ask much of her, and it would be nice to share her life with someone so uncomplicated, someone who adored her….



Good grief, what was she thinking? Drexel was nineteen years old. Did she have some kind of perverse weakness for younger men? Rhys might be an old vampire, but physically he was still on the shy side of twenty-one.



Pain stabbed at her heart when she thought of him. Young or old, right or wrong, she missed him more than she would have thought possible. Why was it, when she had finally met the perfect man, it turned out he wasn’t really a man at all?



She blinked away her tears as a new customer stepped into the shop. Grateful for the distraction, she hurried toward him.



The first two weeks without Rhys were the hardest. She went to work early. She offered to come in on her nights off and help Mr. Parker take inventory. She decided to paint her kitchen, and spent a day looking at color swatches before choosing a pale yellow. When that was done, she threw herself into redecorating her bedroom. She painted the walls a pale, pale lavender. Painted the trim and the ceiling white. She bought a new white quilt and a lavender dust ruffle for her bed, then added several throw pillows in varying shades of lavender and purple. She bought new white curtains, and ordered new carpeting, recovered the seat cushion on the desk chair to match the dust ruffle. And when she was finished, she hated it because she couldn’t imagine Rhys being comfortable with all that lavender.



The next day, she painted the room sky blue, traded the lavender dust ruffle for a white one, exchanged the lavender and purple pillows for blue, and threw her paint roller away.



Later, standing in the doorway admiring her handiwork, she decided she was going insane.



“Definitely insane,” she muttered, “when you worry that a man you’re never going to see again might not like lavender.”



With a shake of her head, she went in to shower and get ready for work.



Rhys stood outside Shore’s, avidly watching Megan’s every move. He was jealous of every man who entered the store and talked with her, heard her voice, shared her laughter. It was all he could do to keep from charging in and breaking the neck of the handsome young man she was currently assisting.



Hands clenched, he took several deep breaths. He had known it would be hard to stay away from her, known he would miss her, but the reality was far worse than anything he had imagined. Standing there, cloaked in the shadows of the night, he decided he was a damn fool; worse, he was a glutton for punishment. He had shared her bed, tasted her blood, asked her to marry him, all the while knowing that they could never have a life together.



He swore softly. Even with walls and windows separating them, he could detect the flowery perfume of her hair, the warm, womanly scent that was uniquely hers. And her blood…Damn! The vibrant, coppery scent aroused vivid images in his mind—images of the two of them in bed, her body writhing beneath his, her voice crying his name. He licked his lips, remembering the sweet taste of her life’s blood on his tongue, the way it had flowed into him, warming all the cold places in his body as her loving acceptance had warmed the dark, empty hollows of his soul.



“Megan.” Her name slipped past his lips, as soft and fervent as a prayer.



Megan glanced at the clock. Almost midnight. Most people called it the witching hour, but at one time, it had been the vampire hour. Unable to help herself, she glanced toward the door, but there was no sign of her vampire. Her vampire. If only that were still true.



“Miss?”



She turned, forcing a smile as a tall, good-looking man came toward her. “Do you have this in a size forty-four?” he asked. “I couldn’t find one on the rack.”



“I think we might have one in the back. Just let me…” Whatever she had been about to say fled her mind with the overwhelming feeling that she was being watched. Pivoting on her heel, Megan stared at the front window, but could see nothing more than a few cars parked at the curb and the lights from the restaurant across the street. But that sense of being watched persisted.



“Miss?”



“What?” She glanced at her customer, her mind blank. “I’m sorry, I…What were you looking for?”



He held up the navy blazer. “You were going to see if you had this in my size.”



“Oh, right.” With a last glance at the front window, Megan went to check the back room.



The rest of the night went by quickly. Megan couldn’t stifle a sense of disappointment when Mr. Parker locked up after their last client departed. Knowing it was foolish, she still found herself hoping that Rhys would be waiting for her when she went out to her car. She should be used to it by now, but she hated going home to an empty house.



Thoughts of going home brought Shirl to mind. Thinking of her former best friend brought the sting of tears to her eyes. She quickly wiped them away before Mr. Parker could see them. The last thing she wanted to do was explain why she was crying. She could hardly tell Mr. Parker the truth, and she wasn’t in the mood to think up a plausible lie.



“Well,” Mr. Parker said, coming up behind her. “If we do this well tomorrow night, I guess Mary Lou will get that cabin in Big Bear after all.”



Mary Lou was Mr. Parker’s wife. She was fifteen years younger than he was. They had been married for twelve years, had two sets of twins, and seemed very happy together. Megan couldn’t help envying them.



“Come on,” Mr. Parker said, as he did most every night. “I’ll walk you out.”



With a nod, Megan grabbed her coat and handbag.



“I don’t think I ever realized just how valuable you are to the business,” Mr. Parker remarked as he unlocked the back door. “Two of our best customers said they wouldn’t be back until you were. I’d hate to think what would happen if you quit.”



“Well, I don’t see that happening anytime soon,” Megan said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”



“Take care.”



Megan waved at him; then, with a sigh, she unlocked her car and slid behind the wheel.



A scream clawed its way out of her throat when she realized she wasn’t alone. “Rhys!” She pressed a hand to her thundering heart. “Good Lord, are you trying to scare me to death?”



She took several slow, deep breaths, her fear quickly replaced by the sheer joy of seeing him again. Her heart did a little somersault when she saw that he was wearing clothes she had sold him. He was as breathtakingly handsome as always, and she reveled in the sight of him.



After the first rush of happiness, anger reared its ugly head. “What are you doing here?”



“I’d think that would be obvious.”



“Oh?” She clasped her hands in her lap to keep from reaching for him. “Why is that?”



“I know you’re upset with me.”



“Upset? Why on earth would I be upset?” She could hear her voice rising, but she couldn’t help it. What right did he have to leave her without so much as a word of good-bye and then just reappear as if nothing had happened?



“Megan…”



“Would you please get out of my car?” When he didn’t move, she wondered if cars were like houses. Could she rescind her invitation?



His gaze moved over her face, as warm and tangible as a caress. “That’s not what you want.”



She glared at him. “Quit. Reading. My. Mind.”



“Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have taken off the way I did. I know that.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Dammit, Megan, I couldn’t look in your eyes and tell you good-bye. Leaving you was hard enough as it was.”



“Daisy told me you left because my life would be in danger as long as you and I were together. So, what’s changed? You’re still a vampire, and I’m still human, and unless you’ve figured out a way to become human again…” Her voice trailed off. “Please, Rhys, just go away. I can’t do this again.”



“Megan.” He caressed her cheek, ever so lightly. “I don’t want to go on without you. I was alone for a long time and content to be so, until I met you. I’m in love with you. That hasn’t changed, and it never will. I know you love me. I know it’s risky for you to stay with me, but maybe if we leave LA, go to a small town where there aren’t any other vampires…” He shrugged. “Maybe we could start over, pretend we’re like any other couple.”